


Valentine's Day is for Losers

by magequisition



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Secret Admirer, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2013-01-28
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:40:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/659015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magequisition/pseuds/magequisition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's a high school nerd with an impossible crush, and he kind of hates the fact that Valentine's Day is coming up. When he starts finding anonymous notes and gifts in his classes and locker, he can't figure out who they're coming from. He can't help but hope that whoever this apparent admirer is, they might help him get his mind off Gabriel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Valentine's Day is for Losers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [allofspace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofspace/gifts).



> For Robin, who needs some cheering up. <3

 Sam rolled out of bed, looked at the calendar on the wall, and groaned. 

“Great,” he muttered as he stomped out of his room and into the bathroom to shower. He emerged a few minutes later, cleaner but no less grouchy. Towel around his waist, he returned to his bedroom to get dressed before heading downstairs. He slumped down at the table, unenthusiastically reaching for the box of frosted flakes and pouring them into the bowl already sitting at his empty spot at the table. 

“Geez, what's with you today, Sammy?” His older brother Dean asked. 

“I don't feel like going to school,” Sam replied sulkily as he poured milk over his cereal. 

“You? Mr. Straight-As, Mr. I-Wanna-Go-To-Stanford, Mr.-” Dean was cut off by a deadly glare sent his direction. 

“Shut up, Dean,” Sam grumbled. 

“Seriously, Sam. What's up? You sick or something?” Dean asked. Sam looked pointedly at the calendar. Dean smirked. 

“Ah, Valentine's Day on Friday. So I take it this means man-of-your-dreams Gabriel hasn't asked you out yet?” Sam glared at Dean again. 

“He doesn't know I'm alive, thanks. But it's got nothing to do with Gabriel. I just don't want to have to deal with all the stupid couples at school all week making out in the hallways and stuff. Valentine's Day is for losers.” Dean grinned. 

“Because you're jealous,” he said in a singsong voice as he stood up from the table, dodging the balled-up napkin Sam half-heartedly tossed in his brother's direction as he left the room. Sam dropped his head onto his left hand and poked uninterestedly at his cereal. 

*****

Sam arrived at school in no better spirits than he'd left the house that morning. He'd decided not to get a ride with Dean, being far from in the mood to deal with his teasing. He and Gabriel were in the same grade, and when Dean found out that Sam had developed a crush on senior class clown, drama club president and improv star Gabriel, he'd taken it upon himself to poke fun endlessly at his younger brother. Sam supposed he deserved it, given that he'd only ever actually met Gabriel once, very briefly (and maybe gone to every improv competition their school's team had been in. And seen all the school plays. But that wasn't so strange, was it?). Sam couldn't even explain why it was he'd fallen for the older boy. For all intents and purposes, he was kind of a prick. He was loud, sort of obnoxious, and often teasing the people around him (although, they were usually his friends and seemed to find it funny, so maybe Sam just wasn't getting it). For all he'd heard, he spent more time in the principal's office than he did in class. He seemed like a direct opposite to Sam's quiet, studious persona. And yet, something about Gabriel never failed to draw Sam in. His boisterous nature translated into an incredible talent onstage, he had a ready laugh and a great smile. Despite his rumoured lack of class attendance, Sam knew he was smart, too – thanks to the newsletter that got sent out at the end of every semester, Sam knew that Gabriel was on the Dean's list every time just like he was. 

Sam dragged his way through the day, staring at the floor whenever possible to avoid the looks at the sappy couples making out in the hallway. He wandered into his fourth-period English class and walked over to his alphabetically-assigned seat. As he moved to sit, he caught sight of a small white square on his seat. He picked it up and unfolded it quickly. 

 

_Hey Sasquatch, U should smile. It's cute._

 

Sam rolled his eyes and crumpled up the note, tossing it into the wastepaper basket near his desk. Dean was going to pay. He was the only one who'd ever called Sam Sasquatch, and even though that wasn't Dean's writing, Sam assumed his brother had gotten one of his friends to write it for him as a joke. He flipped open his binder and let out a sigh of relief when Mrs. Milton walked in and launched immediately into her lecture for the day. Analysing _Romeo and Juliet_ (they were both idiots, if you asked Sam) seemed infinitely preferable to letting his thoughts drift right then. 

Sam walked home from school that day rather than trying to track Dean down for a ride. He kicked off his shoes and ran upstairs, knocking angrily on Dean's door and opening it without waiting for a response. 

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean said, confusion clear on his face. 

“What the hell was that note about, Dean? Not funny!” Sam snapped. Dean raised an eyebrow. 

“Uh...Sammy? What note?” Dean asked. Sam's eyebrows narrowed. 

“The one on my seat in English. Where you called me Sasquatch. Dean, you're the _only_ person that calls me that. I know it was you.” Dean raised his hands, palms facing Sam, as if to say _search me_. 

“Wasn't me, Sam. I swear it. Let's face it, Sasquatch isn't exactly a stretch of a nickname for you. Maybe nobody you know actually calls you that, but it wouldn't be hard for someone to come up with,” Sam glared at his older brother. Dean shrugged. “I don't know, Sam. Okay? I have no damn idea who left you a note. What, was it mean or something?” Sam flushed. 

“No, actually. It was weird, but it seemed like someone was trying to cheer me up.” Dean grinned. 

“Then why are you so bitchy about it?” he asked. 

“Because it sounded like they were flirting with me, Dean. And seeing as how nobody in the school is or will ever be interested in dorky little Sasquatch, I have to assume they were making fun of me. Hence, my assumption that it was you,” Sam snapped. Dean's eyes softened. 

“Sam, that's not true. Someone's got a crush on you, huh? That's great.” Sam rolled his eyes. 

“Don't give me your crap, Dean. I swear to god, if it was you, I'll find out.” Sam turned on his heel and left Dean's room, heading for his own. 

*****

The next day, Sam overslept, meaning he had to take Dean's ride whether he wanted to or not. He wanted to believe that it wasn't his brother that had left that note, but he couldn't think of anyone else it _could_ have been. There weren't that many openly gay guys at school. Sam was one of them and most of the others he could think of were paired off either amongst themselves or with people they knew outside of school. He followed Dean out to the car, a '67 Impala that he'd restored almost on his own starting when he'd turned sixteen, in silence. He'd learned about cars his whole life from their uncle, who owned an auto shop, so he hadn't needed much help. With all the work he'd put into it, the car was now Dean's baby and Sam would be surprised if he ever met an actual living person he could love as much as he loved that car. 

The ride to school was a mostly-quiet affair. Dean tried to start a conversation a couple of times, but when Sam responded in monosyllabic grumbles, Dean finally rolled his eyes and turned on the stereo, AC/DC blaring out of the speakers. They got to the school just to the first bell, and Sam jumped out of the car as soon as they were parked. He grabbed his backpack behind him as he slid off the seat and headed straight for the building, hoping to hit his locker before the deadline to get to class. 

Luckily for Sam, the hallways weren't too busy and his locker wasn't far from the main entrance. He spun the combination and pulled the locker open. He grabbed his math textbook and saw another white square taped to the inside of his locker door. His eyes narrowed as he pulled the paper off the door and slammed the door shut, unfolding the note as he walked quickly towards his first class. 

 

_Sorry dude, I'm not Dean. Heard you rode his ass last night. U are kind of a sasquatch, ya know. A cute one though. U really should smile more. Like you do at mathlete competitions when you win. Which you always do. I like it when you win, since I get to see your cute smile._

 

This time, Sam couldn't control himself as a small smile crossed his face. He couldn't think of anyone that thought anything related to the Mathletes team was cute. A smile still beating at the corners of his mouth, he shoved the note in his jeans pocket and entered his first period math class just as the final bell rang. 

*****

The next morning, Wednesday, Sam woke up slightly less grouchy than he had the previous two mornings. He still wasn't really thrilled with the idea of seeing all the sappy couples in the hallways, but his half-hearted hope that he might find another surprise somewhere buoyed him somewhat. 

He made it through the day with nothing unexpected happening. He tried not to acknowledge the sinking feeling in his chest, instantly convinced whoever it was had been messing with him. Downcast, he walked slowly to his locker to drop off a few books he wasn't going to need that night. He carefully spun out the combination before pulling the door open. As he moved to drop his books on the bottom of the locker, he noticed something laying out across it. He shifted his books to one hand and picked up the paper, folded in half only once this time and oddly heavy, with the other. Dropping his books, he opened the note and found a package of Starburst candies taped across the bottom. There was more writing at the top. 

 

_Made it through another day, Samsquatch! Couldn't work out if you needed cheering up or not but candy's never a bad idea. Now smile._

 

Sam's face softened instantly and he grinned as he pushed his locker closed, turning to leave the school and meet Dean at the car. 

*****

Sam got up early on Thursday morning, taking a little extra time to shower and get dressed. 

“God, you're cheerful this morning,” Dean said crankily. “You finally get laid or somethin'?” Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Yeah, that seems likely. I'm just in a good mood, Dean. Is that so wrong?” Dean looked at him quizzically. 

“Uh, no?” he started. “Don't get me wrong, Sammy. I'm freakin' thrilled that you're back to your almost obnoxiously cheery self. The whole 'I hate Valentine's Day' thing was getting seriously old. It's just kinda a sudden change.” Sam just shrugged in response, sticking two Eggos into the toaster and humming quietly to himself. 

Sam was almost hyper-vigilant that day, staying on the outlook for anyone hanging around that wasn't normally near his classes, or anyone who was that seemed to be looking at him. Nothing out of the ordinary caught his attention, but when he arrived at his locker at the end of the day, having not had a chance to stop there all day, there was another note inside. This one was much shorter than the others. 

 

_Keep your eyes open tomorrow._

 

Sam's eyes narrowed slightly in confusion, but whoever this person was, they'd been nothing but kind to him so far. He slipped the note into his pocket again and, grabbing his things, went out to meet Dean at the Impala. 

*****

When Sam arrived at school the next morning, Valentine's Day, he walked quickly to his locker. Upon opening it, however, he found nothing out of the ordinary. He tried not to let the disappointment show on his face, though he wasn't sure he was entirely successful. Still, he reminded himself, first period hadn't even started. There was a long school day stretching out in front of him. 

As it turned out, Sam didn't have to wait that long. Halfway through second period, there was a knock at the door. Mr. Novak, Sam's History teacher, walked over to open the door and after a quiet consultation with the new arrivals, nodded and stepped back to let them in. 

“Be quick,” he warned. “I _am_ trying to teach a class.” Two girls skipped in cheerfully, both adorned garishly in pink and red. 

“Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!” said the first girl, a dark-haired junior Sam thought was named Ruby. “I'm Ruby,” she said, confirming Sam's partial recognition, “And this is Meg,” she gestured to the petite blonde girl beside her. “We're from the student council, and we've got some Valentine's candygrams for a few of you!” A few people in the class groaned, while a few of the girls giggled. Ruby and Meg moved around the room quickly, calling out names. Finally, Meg was left with one. 

“Uh, Sam? Sorry, I don't think we've met! Are you here?” Sam's eyes shot up from where he'd been reading a passage in his textbook, his cheeks darkening as he felt several pairs of eyes on him. 

“Um, that's me,” he said, raising one hand slightly. 

“Here ya go,” she replied, grinning and winking at him playfully before heading to the door with Ruby. “Thanks for letting us bug your class, Mr. Novak! See you in sixth period!” she said cheerfully, both girls waving at the class before exiting quickly, closing the door behind themselves. Sam opened the small card on the foil-wrapped candy. 

 

_I hope you've liked this week. Haven't done this before. Come see me after school, by the track?_

 

The blush on Sam's cheeks deepened as he flipped the small card closed, his heartbeat gaining speed. He bit his lip to try and push back the smile that was threatening to split his face in two, but failed miserably. He glanced up at the clock on the wall, and for the first time in his life, Sam Winchester prayed that the school day would pass quickly. 

*****

When the final bell rang at 3:10, Sam was the first person out of his seat. He raced to his locker and swapped out the books he wouldn't need that weekend for the ones he would before leaving out through the door near the gym, which let him out straight to the track. As he approached the oval, he didn't see anyone that seemed to be waiting. A few early birds from the track team, people who'd had spare periods in the last block, were stretching or starting slow laps, but that was all he saw. He glanced around once more and, seeing nobody, he moved to sit on the lower level of the bleachers. 

“Hey, Samsquatch,” he heard a voice call out from behind him. The voice was far more familiar to him than it really had any right to be. Sam turned quickly and jumped when he found Gabriel behind him, much closer than he'd expected. 

“Gabriel?” Sam asked, his eyebrows narrowing. “Oh, fuck. I really have been messed with, haven't I...did Dean put you up to this? I'm going to kill that jerk...” he babbled. 

“SAM!” Gabriel half-shouted in an attempt to cut Sam off. “Dean's got nothing to do with this.” Sam's jaw dropped. 

“But...that means...you...” Sam stammered, evidently unable to form sentences. Gabriel smirked. 

“Looks like it, kiddo.” Gabriel said. Sam shook his head. 

“No. No way. No way do you go to my Mathlete tournaments. No way do you think about me smiling. That kind of crap doesn't happen, and definitely not to me. Not by people like you.” Gabriel rolled his eyes before leaning forward, the extra height from being up the bleachers from Sam making him taller than the younger boy for once. He placed a hand on the back of Sam's head, pulling his head forward and kissing him soundly. They broke apart a second (that felt like an eternity to Sam) later. 

“ _Now_ will you shut up and believe me?” Gabriel asked, smiling to indicate the intended lightness of his words. 

“But...Gabriel,” Sam said. “You can't be thinking this through. You could have anyone. You're the improv team star. You're in almost every school play. Everyone thinks you're hilarious. And you're a senior, and I'm just a sophomore.” 

“And you're a smokin' hot genius with a deceptively cute smile,” Gabriel grinned for a second before his smile faded slightly and his voice became more serious. “Really, Sam. I am, for once in my life, deadly serious. Please tell me I'm not wasting my one moment of not living up to my class clown title three years running.” Sam searched Gabriel's face carefully. Years of direct and indirect bullying (always verbal, given his size nobody had ever dared to try and bully him physically) had caused him to develop a great deal of skill in reading people. Sam looked over Gabriel's expression carefully, trying to find some indication that the older boy was being less than honest. 

There was nothing. Either Gabriel was being honest, or he was an exceptionally good liar. Sam took a deep breath. 

“You'd better not make me regret this,” he said slowly, standing up and stepping forward to kiss Gabriel again, smiling against his lips as he felt the shorter boy's arms wrap tightly around his waist. 


End file.
